


Evicting Mickey

by rromantic



Series: Purr-fect love universe [9]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Beam the cat, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 20:59:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17352497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rromantic/pseuds/rromantic
Summary: Post 513, mouse-problems at Britin.





	Evicting Mickey

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: If you’re allergic to cats ***scrathes behind ear and watches hair float around*** , or scared of mice ***smirks*** , you should sit further from the screen, or get someone to read my story to you and hold your hand (humans...).
> 
> Beam

_Beam PoV_

" _Fucking_ cat!"

"Brian, I told you it's not his fault! If you want to live in a country manor estate, you have to take the wildlife that comes with it."

"But what good is he if he can't keep the fucking things the fuck out of my house?"

I stop outside the door in time to hear the last part of Brian and Justin's heated conversation. I heard Brian's loud cry from downstairs, and was already on the stairs by the time Justin's giggle reached my ears. Fuck, here we go again… Drama queen Kinney, in top form. And I'm giving up my afternoon nap to save his ass. Justin had better be very grateful.

"It's not exactly like you've been nice to him about it. Why should he help?"

"I'm sure he brings them in himself. I've seen him play with the ones that he does manage to catch. It's not exactly like he's averse to them."

"Brian, he's a _cat_. Of course, he'll play with them. But I have never seen him kill one, or bring a mouse in from outside. He doesn't have to. What we're feeding him is much better than anything he has to go get for himself. For which you could show a bit more appreciation, since it is _no_ fun having to clean up after a cat that eats the fucking things as well." 

I smirk. One would not be able to tell from the current court proceedings, but Brian and I actually get along very well, much more than Justin knows. Or rather, than Brian _thinks_ he knows. Justin is not stupid, and I know he's noticed Brian stealing a quick rub between my ears, or not throwing me off when I sleep next to him on the couch. His pride, however, doesn't allow him to show affection for anything soft and fluffy and fucking gorgeous, except himself. Fucking gorgeous, I mean – _not_ the soft part. Fuck, he'd kill me for even thinking of using his name in the same sentence as 'soft.' 

We have this silent understanding to keep up pretenses and thereby prevent Justin from cooing and getting nauseatingly fussy about how cute we are together. It happened once, after which I decided immediately to guard Brian's secret with my life. I _love_ Justin fluffing and rubbing and stroking me, but he is simply too much to take when he freaks about Brian and me.

Getting back to their domestic squabbles... As Justin so correctly pointed out, Britin is situated in the middle of nowhere, with the biggest attraction for Brian and Justin being its isolation, peace and quiet, and view of a fairly untouched field. However, Brian didn't quite think it through, and never imagined that Mickey Mouse might frequently drop in unannounced, or sometimes even bring Minnie and some friends on a guided tour of the Kinney-Taylor palace.

Justin and I were alone at home when Mickey rushed over to introduce himself, but I interrupted and easily convinced him to stay out of the neighborhood if he wanted to reach the ripe old mouse-age of 3 months.

It turned out that his memory was as bad as his body odor, and when he stopped by for a second time, he had the misfortune of running into Brian. I'm not sure which one of us was more surprised to discover Brian has a great fea-… dislike of anything scurrying about. He was mortified at finding himself pressed up against the wall, making completely undignified noises. Justin's mouth twisted and he ran from the room like I have never seen him do. His studio door slammed shut and reverberated through the whole house, but I could still hear him laughing hysterically. Brian, on the other hand, either did not hear it or chose to ignore it. I must hand it to him for not leaving and seeking shelter. Instead, he sank down on the bed in a valiant attempt at appearing unruffled. Courage like that is worthy of some respect, and I pretended not to notice how his eyes kept darting around the room. I took my cue and jumped up next to him.

"What are you doing about this?" he snapped at me. Brian was beyond aggravated and irritated, rubbing the back of his neck in that self-conscious way of his when he is confronted with something uncomfortable. 

I bumped my head against his elbow in an effort to give him some reassurance. Of course, I was as amused as Justin was, but I managed not to let my sniggering get beyond my usual smirk, and he couldn't tell. Or he was just too desperate for my help to address it.

"We can't use mouse-traps or poison. Justin will have a fit, and I don't like the idea much, either. So, you're the next best thing." 

I growled low at this. _Next_ best thing? Brian clearly didn't quite get it. I'm _the_ best thing. Mouse-traps and poison are what you use if you don't have a cat. And even then, I'd recommend asking one of the neighbors’ cats to help, rather than go that far. It really is no way for them to die, and all for just following their mousey instincts.

"Fine, Beam, whatever the fuck. But I'm telling you, you've got less time than it takes me to fuck Justin. So get to it." He stood up and hurriedly left the room, finally giving up on nonchalance about being assaulted by a handful of grey fur. 

I will admit, though, they do have nasty teeth. It's better to stay away from the sharp end. 

Seconds later, another door slammed. Brian had holed himself up in his study, and would probably not set foot again outside his sanctuary before I gave the all-clear.

I sighed and leaped off the bed, my whiskers twitching as I searched for the scent. As good as I am - and I am _good_ \- this was _not_ going to be easy. Brian and Justin had just finished showering, and had been getting dressed when Britin's latest visitor ran across the room. Expensive shampoo, cologne, and body cream wafted from the bathroom, and the air was heavy with the extravagant smells.

Concentrating hard, I tried to remember from my very early days what live food taste-… smelled like, and gradually the various fragrances separated. I found Mickey huddled against the back wall under the bed, and we engaged in a brief conversation before I escorted him outside. I had no problem not eating him, but oh shit, did I want to play. He knew, and kept deadly still while I carefully picked him up by the scruff of his neck. I closed my jaw just enough not to drop him, or allow him to wriggle himself free, but it took all my self-control to not put him down again and give him a five second head start before I went hunting.

I forced myself to think of the prizes and treats and 'thank you’s' I’d be getting for saving Brian from the big, bad mouse, and not about the toy in my mouth. We made it, barely... both fairly sane, and not completely overtaken by primal urges.

The heated voices have simmered down to a low murmur, and I stroll in, not at all surprised to find them perched on the edge of the bed, limbs tangled. Justin is already straddled across Brian’s lap, and _hard_ at work in administering the necessary sedatives to calm Brian down. Read: remind him of his cock and Justin’s ass and how well the two fit together. 

I stop just inside the door and take my time to study them. I have said it before... I may be straight, but I do recognize beauty when I see it, and they are an extraordinarily handsome couple. More so because the air sparking between them has as much to do with loving each other as it does with their physical attraction. 

I like watching them (up to a point!), especially when they have guests over. 

From all their friends, Emmett and Drew come closest to sizzling as much as they do, but even with Emmett’s flame at its brightest, he and Drew don’t need to be reminded that they’re sharing a room with other people nearly as much as Brian and Justin do. 

It takes a smile from Justin, a touch from Brian, and they’re lost to their dinner companions. 

Brian would barely start kissing Justin before my blond boy climbs up his body and they start making those noises that say ‘I want to fuck you’ and ‘I want you to fuck me’ to each other, and ‘fuck off’ to everyone else. Me excluded, of course. Of all our visitors, either here or at the loft, Michael seems to be the one least impressed by the beautiful show of affection.

Michael… Mikey… Mickey…

Brian’s fingers disappear in Justin’s hair, his other hand trying to do the same into Justin’s jeans. His head is buried in Justin’s neck, and I have no doubt he’s doing that sloppy-nibble thing that turns Justin into an incoherent idiot. I quickly make my way towards the bed, knowing from experience I better talk to them while they still have some words left.

They don’t notice me, and even though this isn’t an unusual occurrence when Brian is in the process of thrusting his tongue down Justin’s throat, it still irks me. Surely they are expecting me to show up after Brian’s loud cry for help. I am about to make their day, and the least they can do is acknowledge the arrival of their savior. Especially Brian, after what he has been spouting about me.

I jump up next to them, and make a point of stepping on Brian’s leg to reach Justin’s hands, which is halfway through unbuttoning Brian’s shirt. They break apart and Justin laughs as he wriggles his fingers over my back. I’ve given up on trying to control my body’s undignified behavior when he does that, and simply sink to my front knees with a deep vibration in my throat.

I am, however, ruffled enough by Brian’s unnecessary comments on my loyalty and abilities to sweep my tail under his chin as I turn around to face Justin. It’s an intricate movement, requiring balance and grace, and one which I have perfected after much practice. One would think Brian has learned by now to sit still while I get comfortable, but he doesn’t, and I have no choice but to anchor myself when my seat shifts under me. Fortunately, he’s wearing Armani’s jeans (I don’t understand why such a vain human would wear someone else’s clothes), but I am still careful in how deep I dig my nails through the thick fabric.

Cursing, he jerks his leg away, but I anticipate his reaction and am long out of reach on the other side of the bed when he lunges for me. I grin and he scowls. We don’t have time to play now, but I make a mental note to take him up on his offer later.

Justin walks around the bed to my side and crouches in front of me. “Guess you heard we’ve got a problem.”

I nod my head and sit back on my haunches to show him he has my undivided attention.

“I’m afraid this might take some work.”

“It’s his _job_ to catch the fucking things. And since he’s so _good_ , it shouldn’t _take some work_ ,” Brian sneers and I give him a withering look. I know we’ve got a friendship-in-disguise arrangement, but he’s playing the part a little too well to my liking. Justin strokes the side of my neck... his way of distracting me away from Brian... and my back arches out of its own accord to rub against him. 

I close my eyes and purr slowly to show my appreciation. Justin is exceptionally good at petting me, and sometimes I wish we could tell him about me and Brian. Brian’s a quick study, and with Justin’s help, we could speed up his learning process significantly. Imagine, two sets of expert hands available whenever I want them.

“It went down the hall before I could close the door,” Justin says.

Of course I know this already, having picked up Mickey’s scent when I ran upstairs. I even know which way he went.

Justin gets up and moves around the bed, back to Brian. His hand folds around the stiff neck as he bends down to kiss his still scowling partner. I can’t see his other hand, but I know he’s stroking Brian’s dick. That’s phase two of Brian’s therapy. 

“Let’s continue this downstairs, okay? I’ll get you something to drink, and then you can fuck me-“ Kiss on Brian’s forehead. “-and again-“ Kiss on his eyelids. “-and...“ 

Brian takes the outstretched hand, and without a word, follows a skipping Justin out of the room. In the doorway, he turns, and we stare at each other for a long time. I smile back at the lopsided grin.

Apology accepted. 

***

“I’ll get it,” Justin says, pushing Brian in the general direction of his desk and the swivel chair behind it. The liquor cabinet in Brian’s study is fully stocked, for which Justin is glad, seeing as he doesn’t feel like leaving Brian. The bar is on the other side of the house, and even the short time it would take him to get drinks is too long. He will _never_ tell Brian, but he is fucking adorable like this. Always-in-control Brian needs someone else to take care of a problem, since he is unable to solve it himself, and it never fails to make Justin go weak in the knees at the burning want to hold him.

Brian Kinney might not fear any man, but he isn’t doing as well when it comes to the animal kingdom.

Who would have thought a small, furry creature would have the power to force Brian into Justin’s arms for comfort? Although, in all fairness, their teeth and house-building habits should be mentioned. Justin knows Brian’s loathing of mice differs from the fear people usually have when it comes to rodents. Mice like soft things for their nests, and Brian has a _lot_ of soft things... in, amongst other places, his wardrobe... and what isn’t soft enough, such as Italian furniture, can be chewed at until it meets Mrs. Mouse’s quality standards.

It’s not as if he expects Brian to have a nervous breakdown over a _mouse_... not even Brian is that much of a drama queen... but he loves taking care of his partner and always makes the most of any opportunity to do so.

Justin hands Brian the whiskey tumbler and takes a sip of his own before settling on Brian’s lap. “Now, where were we?” he whispers playfully, unbuttoning the rest of Brian’s shirt. Hungry lips part against his, warm and flavored with the amber liquid’s slightly bitter aftertaste. With a mischievous nibble to Brian’s lower lip, he dips his tongue inside. “Beam will catch him. Don't worry." _Fuck_! That was _so_ not what he intended to say.

Brian goes rigid and pulls back to glare at Justin. "I'm not fucking worried. And I'm not fuck-"

Justin cups his hands around Brian's neck, keeping his head in place while he smothers Brian’s mouth with his. "I meant worried about having the mouse run around, eating our food or whatever the fuck it’s looking for," he says in a soothing voice. Planting small kisses on Brian's temples and forehead, he unzips Brian's pants, takes out his cock and lazily runs his thumb over the swollen head. "I want you inside me," he murmurs. Nothing like his dick to take Brian’s mind off things. With his other hand, Justin fumbles with the buttons of his jeans. Palming himself, he jerks them off with the same, slow rhythm.

They are about to move over to the couch when Beam yells outside in the hall, causing them to startle apart. Cursing, Justin jumps up, recognizing the sound. Beam didn’t say, "Welcome home. How are you? Let's sit down for a comfy chat." That was his _warning_ voice.

Justin flies around the table to close the study door, but he is too late. A grey blur, closely followed by a ginger streak, barges into the room, aiming straight for the desk and the chair behind it, and Brian’s feet in between.

***  
 _Beam’s PoV_

I yell a promise of inflicting severe physical discomfort on Mickey when I realize where he is heading. I know Brian and Justin are in the study, and I have a nasty suspicion so does Mickey, and that this escape route is part of a bigger plan. After all, it is impossible to not notice Brian's agitation whenever our neighbor shows up, and even something as stupid as a mouse should have figured it out by now. 

Mickey makes the mistake of ignoring my warning, and disappears with a 90 degree turn into the study. Well, fuck, they could have at least closed the door. I can only do so much to protect them. 

I’m on his heels when we enter the room, but I’m still too late. Justin understood what I was trying to tell him from the hall and has moved away from the desk. Brian, however, our fearless Lord of the Manor, chooses to remain seated on his throne, staring wide-eyed at his disrespectful subject running straight at him. The mouse, not me. I bow to _no_ one.

His desk is placed in front of a set of French doors, his chair facing the study, and it’s clear my toy is focused on leaving our humble abode that way. The doors, however, are closed, but he only discovers this when he reaches Brian’s desk. His anxious squeak seems to bring Brian back to life, and lifting his feet he pushes away from the desk, spinning backwards, directly into Mickey’s path. Mickey is too close to stop and skids on the hardwood floor. Somehow he still manages to change course, barely missing getting caught up in the flurry of wheels and feet. 

With me closing in from one side, and him sliding into the wall on his other side, he has no other choice but to scurry for the corner. Less than half a second later, I’ve got him swinging between my jaws. We didn’t exchange our usual pleasantries, and I’m not holding him as gently as he is used to. I don’t do anything either to keep myself from salivating over him. He squirms and complains and I tighten my grip. 

Justin is even quicker than I am, and back on Brian’s lap, stripped and naked, by the time I turn around. I am not sure whether his "you are so brave" and "my hero" are meant as genuine exaltation, or if he is trying to earn himself the spanking of his life. From the way he is rubbing up against Brian, and his enthusiastic cooing, in the exact way he knows will guarantee punishment, I’m going with the second one.

Halfway across the room, I glance over at the Brian-Justin-bundle writhing in the chair. Brian catches my eye over Justin’s shoulder, and I stop when he winks at me. I would grin back if not for a soaking wet Mickey dangling from my mouth. Instead, I blink at him and tilt my head once before heading for the door. The mumbled praise changes to _"oooohhhh"_ and _"aaahhhh,"_ and I pick up speed. There are certain things Brian doesn’t need my help with, and besides, I’ve got a long overdue play date.  



End file.
